


The Clock

by No1CozmarFan



Category: Cozmar
Genre: Childhood, Gen, How Do I Tag, Magic Revealed, POV Child, Pre-Canon, did i really just call this the clock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 02:52:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17931446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/No1CozmarFan/pseuds/No1CozmarFan
Summary: Loria as a child learning about her powers.





	1. Chapter 1

Loria’s small feet sent echoes down the hall as she heard Cyran counting in the distance, “Fifteen...fourteen...thirteen…” She slowed down, looking left and right for the perfect hiding place. “I still have time,” she though, “Twelve seconds left.” The hall was nearly empty, just some columns, a few paintings, little tables, and a giant grandfather clock.

Loria kept running, trying the door at the end of the hall. Her hands slipped over and over again as she tried to secure a grip on the door knob. “What fool leaves a handle greasy like that?” she thought angrily. Running back to the other side of the room, she bolted past the corner, only to swing back as she saw Cyran peeping through his hands and nearly seeing her.

“Eight…seven...six…” He called. 

Loria briskly scanned the hall again, “Where can I even hide here? Behind the paintings? Under the table clothless tables? In that stupid grandfather clock? In...in the clock!”

She ran to it, prying at the panel with her fingers. “Maybe…” She tugged the edges, and, suddenly, it came loose, swinging out at her. Loria’s heart was pounding as she climbed inside, tugging in the layers of her dress.

As she pulled the panel closed, she heard Cyran shout, “The count is done, spots ready or none!” He ran off, footsteps echoing down the palace.

As Loria settled inside the clock, she realized it wasn't pitch black inside as she had expected. A little hole had been drilled into the door, letting through a small beam of light.

“Petyr, Loria!” she heard Cyran call, in an attempt to draw them out. She heard more footsteps as he dashed through the tall rooms, stopping periodically to pull back some suspicious looking curtains or peer behind a large piece of furniture.

Loria smiled smugly, wondering how long it would take him to discover her here.

She heard someone older enter the room, shortly followed by another. Loria bent down, peering through the little hole in the panel. They were cleaning ladies, simply but nicely dressed, carrying washcloths, water, and little brooms of soap leaves. The women were disagreeing about something, a superstition that somehow involved chickens.

Loria couldn't follow the reasoning of either, but one seemed to have been outchattered to the point that argument had lost its interest. They silently moved through the hall, scrubbing tables and pictures frames, one or other occasionally spitting retorts they hadn't thought of earlier.

Loria giggled silently, “I see everything they do while they don't know a thing! No one stops to realize I'm sitting right here.”

“Loria!” she heard, the call from Petyr this time. He glanced into the hall and after a quick scan, bounded across to the door, about to swing it open. But finding the knob slippery, he gave up and ran off in the opposite direction.

The servants petty retorts had escalated to a full blast argument, each vehemently defending her own beliefs like her life depended on it, which she was half convinced it did.

“What kind of pig leaves the doorknob greasy like this?” One of the ladies hissed, pausing the argument for a pauseworthy complaint.

“Probably that wardling, Petyr, messy little human,” the other hissed in reply.

From the corner of her vision Loria could see one of the ladies rolling her eyes. She muffled another giggle.

Loria’s cramped legs were beginning to fall asleep, but the hiding place was worth it. For the next hour, she sat quietly, listening in on the chatter of servants, conversations silly nobles were sure were private, and the loud footsteps and frustrated calls of Petyr and Cyran.

When she looked out through the peephole, things didn't seem to change, but she could tell from the gradual thinning of people that the hour was growing late. Petyr and Cyran had given up their search and went off to play with a knucklebone die Petyr had gotten from one of the soldiers. “How funny,” Loria thought, “I’m sitting in a clock but I can't see what time it is.”

Growing bored after a while, Loria pushed at the panel and tumbled out, her limbs asleep and dress rumpled, but a smile on her lips. Closing the clock after her, she got up and walked down the hall, legs prickling, but heart happy.


	2. Chapter 2

“So, children,” Banthis said, looking across the small table at his two students, “Why is the Trade Confederation our enemy?” 

“I know!” Loria piped up, “It's be-”

“Why doesn't Cyran answer one this time?” Banthis said, “You've answered every question so far.”

Cyran scrunched up his eyebrows and glanced at Loria like she was going to communicate the answer to him telepathically. “I...because of the…” He furrowed his eyebrows even more. “I have to think,” announced Cyran.

“Because they took our land, humiliated our nation and murdered our people!” Loria blurted out.

“That is correct,” Banthis replied, “But wait your turn next time. Anything you would like to add, Cyran?”

Cyran pretended to think for a second. “Hmm… Loria’s already said everything.”

Banthis chuckled and closed the history book. “Well, history is done for today, you are dismissed.”

As the two got up, Banthis added with a smile, “Actually, concerning you, Cyran, you will be starting a new subject today.”

Cyran looked up inquisitively, “A new subject? Which-” Suddenly, his face lit up. “Are they the lessons mother was telling me about.?”

Banthis’s smile widened, “Indeed, if the magic lessons are what you're referring to.”

Cyran grinned, “I didn't realize the were starting so early!” He ran off, forgetting to ask where the lessons were even being held.

“Banthis?” Loria asked, looking up.

“Yes, child?”

“Will I be going to magic lessons too?” Loria murmured, glancing longingly in the direction Cyran had run off to.

“In time,” Banthis replied uneasily, “I am sure it will come in a few years.”

Loria smiled and ran off, waving to Banthis. 

She wandered down the palace, seeking out Petyr for a game of something. Walking absentmindedly down the halls, Loria came across a familiar door. As she tried to open it, the handle slipped over and over out of her hand. “Stupid doorknob,” she thought.

As she turned to walk back, Loria realized, “I'm in the clock room again.” She looked up at the impressive-looking grandfather clock, it's mechanisms slowly ticking away. Walking up to it, Loria bent down and pried open the panel, opening up the familiar compartment. Curling up inside, she pulled in the door after her, and plunged into a world of imagination.

“I wonder…what will I do once I have magic?” Loria pictured running through the palace, shooting bursts of light. She imagined sitting in a tub of bathwater, forming little waves and spraying the servants. Dueling with Cyran, practicing until she could beat him every time. Playing with him in the courtyard, shooting little fireballs at each other. Millions of exciting possibility flooded her mind as her eyes slowly began to close.

Ice spells, arcane shields, explosions, fixing her stupid crooked nose. Soaring through the sky like an owl, flying all the way up to the stars. Her mind wandered back to Cyran. “I'll definitely outmatch him one day,” She thought to herself, “I'll study and practice every day, while Cyran’s out pranking the servants and playing stupid games. I'll grow up and go on all sorts of grand adventures. I'll slay monsters, tame magical beasts, and master spells even Karnissa couldn't do!” Enveloped in fantasy, Loria drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

“Why do you keep disappearing lately?” Cyran asked, eating another slice of spiced cheese.

“I was…” Loria shrugged. “Thinking?”

Cyran furrowed his eyebrows. “Thinking? Where? We were looking all over for you.”

“In my room…”

Cyran looked confused but soon forgot about it, turning to Petyr to start some silly game they'd just invented. 

Not finding much interest in their game, and with nothing else to entertain her, Loria decided to turn her attention to what the adults were talking about. 

“Well, then, those accounts are settled.” Karnissa finalized. “House Rosecrown can finally stop pestering us now. Onto other matters...”

“Just boring adult stuff,” Loria thought, looking around the hall for something else to amuse herself with. She would have gotten up and left to play, but the following course would include a lemon custard she didn't want to miss.

Suddenly, something caught her attention.

“-doing so well, I must say I’m impressed. The child is progressing incredibly quickly.” She heard Karnissa say to Krystia and Patyrius.

“Who are they talking about?” Loria wondered, absentmindedly. Suddenly a thought came to her,“Could they possibly be talking...about me? I've been trying so hard in school...maybe?”

“I won’t slow the progress by spare compliments,” Karnissa continued, “But…”

Loria’s mind raced wildly, “Could grandmother really think I'm doing well? That has to be it! I’ve answered every question Banthis has given me, or almost every.”

Karnissa carried on. “I really am proud of your child.”

Loria tried to convince herself it wasn't true, it wasn't about her, but she couldn't stop the excited beat of her heart and the smile involuntarily forming on her lips.

“Cyran has shown such talent in such a short period of time.” Karnissa announced proudly.”If he’s not idle, I'm confident he will grow into an accomplished mage.”

Loria’s heart wilted, the excitement slowly draining from her face. “Cyran? She was talking about Cyran? Because of his stupid magic skills? I…” Despite her best efforts to keep it contained, a single tear rolled down her cheek. Rubbing it away before anyone could see, Loria looked for anything that could distract her.

But all that came to her head was, “Grandmother’s proud of Cyran, he has magic, you don’t, Grandmother won't love you.Grandmother’s proud of Cyran, he has magic, you don’t, Grandmother won't love you.”

As the thoughts twirled and jumbled in her mind, one hopeful thing managed to cut through. “You'll have magic too soon,” she told herself, “You'll be just like Cyran. You'll work hard and get even better than him. And then, Grandmother will be proud of me, she'll talk about me that way. I'll be her prized granddaughter, maybe even the next great mage. It's like Banthis likes to say, I just have to be patient.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Loria leaned against the marble column, breathing hard. Her face had turned redder than a radish from running and her heart pounded in her chest. Realizing Cyran might tag her while she catching her breath, Loria moved behind the column and sat down. 

As the red started to recede from her face and her breathing to return to normal, Loria caught the sound of voices. Two people were having an agitated discussion while strolling down the hallway. “I wonder if it's anything interesting,” Loria pondered absentmindedly. The situation felt reminiscent of all the times Loria had heard silly nobles and servants chattering away, but this felt different. As the voices drew closer, she realized she recognized them. They were Krystia and Karnissa.

Loria strained to hear what they were saying, but all that reached her ears were snippets.

“-tired of this-talking-you're avoiding-no, you say that-” But as they neared, Loria made out Krystia snapping back, “Yes, but we can't give up hope.”

Karnissa scoffed, “Yes, of course, there is a tiny probability, I would like to believe it too.”

“What are they talking about?” Loria wondered, peeking out a little bit from the column.

Karnissa didn't seem to take notice as she continued, “This is foolishness, all you are doing is lying to yourself.”

They wrangled on, Krystia loudly exclaiming at every word Karnissa uttered. Loria wasn't quite sure what they were talking about, but it sounded serious. She pulled back behind the column as the footsteps and voices grew louder. From the shadows she could see the two walking right past her.

“It's like you don't care about anything!”

“Me? I'm thinking about the bigger picture, do you stop for a second to consider what you're saying?”

“I'm saying this is important!”

“And what are you planning to do about it?”

“I...I’m not sure, but we have to do something!”

“And what is that something? Did you even think about that? What's your plan?”

“Maybe a specialized...healer?”

Suddenly, one phrase claimed all of Loria’s attention. “Face it,” Karnissa said coldly and bluntly. “She does not have the gift. Loria will never have magic.”

The words were a stab to the heart, stunning her. Krystia and Karnissa feuded on, louder than ever, but Loria could not hear them. Suddenly, tears were flowing from her eyes, like a dam just released, dripping over her dress. “Never have magic?” She couldn't fully process what the words meant, but she could feel herself curling up in agony. Her throat tighten. “Never?” A sob escaped her lips, but Karnissa and Krystia couldn't hear it, fully enveloped up in their fuming argument. Loria’s slid down to the cold floor as she repeated the word in her mind. Never.

All she could feel were the wet tears soaking her dress, tears, unending tears. She could barely think why she was crying, but she felt why, she could feel the anguish seeping through her. Loria rubbed at her eyes in a futile attempt to wipe away the tears, but that only made her cry more. “Never, never, never,” circled in her mind. “Never, never, never, never.”

Suddenly, her world was pierced by the sound of loud footsteps and a child's laugh. “Petyr,” she realized.

“No,” Loria told herself. “He can't see me crying, he can't see me.”

Although it was the last thing in the world she felt like doing, Loria pulled herself up. She ran. She didn't know in what direction she was going, all she wanted was to get away. From everyone, from everything. Her legs following the subconscious route in her mind, Loria found herself in the clock room. “I have to get away, I have to get away,” she told herself.

Swinging open the panel, she climbed inside. Shutting the door after herself, Loria collapsed into sobs.

She tried to muffle them, to be quiet, but it barely helped. She couldn't think, all she felt was a crushing agony. She cried, and cried, until she couldn’t believe she wasn't out of tears yet. But as her eyes began to sting from them, Loria started to calm down.

Slowly, the ramifications of the words began to replace the dull pain.

“I don’t have magic,” she realized, as if hearing it for the first time. “That means...I'll never be able to do all those things I hoped for. No dueling, no shooting fireballs in the courtyard, no beaming light spells in the halls. Never out matching Cyran. No adventures. Never.”

Fresh tears streamed over ones that has begun to dry, little droplets dripping onto the wooden base of her hiding spot. Nobles passed by, but they either didn't hear anything or didn't care. “Never,” repeated in her head. “And…” Loria realized, “Grandmother will never talk about me the way she does Cyran. She'll never love me like she will Cyran, she'll never be proud of me.” Loria sniffed, a headache forming in her temples. “Never, and all because of his stupid luck. Cyran can do magic just because, but I can’t. He fools around all day, while I actually try in school.It's not fair! He doesn't deserve it, he'll probably never even learn how to use it properly. Why can't I be the one with magic? Why must Cyran get everything?” More and more tears dripped down, making little patterning noises on the wood.

“Where did you go again?” She suddenly heard him call. “Always off in your stupid hiding places!”

Pressing back against the back of the clock, she fumed silently, “Yes, I'm in my stupid hiding place, and you'll never know where it is.” She brushed a hot tear off her face. “You'll walk by it every day till you're old and frail and still not notice it, you never notice anything of importance!”

Rushing in with her indignation came a thought, a hope she had almost forgotten the feeling of. “I can make grandmother proud. I can't do magic but I'll make up for it. I'll be the greatest student Banthis has ever seen, that Satyria has ever seen. I won't need magic to out match Cyran, I will outsmart him every time. Grandmother will notice me, Grandmother will love me, and Grandmother will be proud of me.


End file.
